“The doctor wants us to stand by while he checks every line on the machine.”

At one-fifteen in the morning, the night neonatologist met us inside the glass walls of the intensive care unit.

His dark blue scrubs were crumpled at the sleeves, and he held a silver penlight between his thumb and forefinger.

Nurse Elena stood on the other side of the clear plastic box, holding the heavy blue medical chart open against her hip.

Her pen was tucked securely behind her right ear.